


The Queen of Mars

by WahlBuilder



Category: Mars: War Logs, The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 15:03:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17769023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: Roy and Sean are looking for her.





	The Queen of Mars

Mars is beautiful, Roy admits. Rolling past, in the glory of late afternoon, it looks ancient, calm—a far cry from all the violent things people do to each other.

The heat, cold, mole swarms, jelly blooms and other dangers and inconveniences aside, Roy likes the plains. There is something alien to them: the spines of the ridges, walls of the craters, the mercy of shadows and the uncaring severity of the sunlight. He doesn’t feel like a stranger—because there are simply no other people around to call him crazy.

‘Brother, are you all right there?’

Even Sean’s voice, calm, doesn’t break his peace. The wind rushes, filling the sails. Both of them are strange—but not strangers.

‘All right.’

‘Sing for me?’

He sings. He doesn’t think on what he sings: bits of this, verses of that, a tune, a melody, a few lines. The wind catches his songs and carries them away.

‘Not long now, I hope.’

They don’t talk much. They’ve been on the road for days, stopping whenever they needed to, or wanted to (to look at the sunrise, to sit in the shadow of a magnificent cliff, to share a meal over a drop of a canyon). Hunting together, huddling for warmth at night with lights turned down. They have a goal—and people who wait for them to get back. Their people. Their home.

He drifts off, lulled by his singing—his awareness expanding, expanding…

‘Sean. I’ve found her. Bit to the north.’

‘Got it.’

It takes them a few minutes more to reach the place. It is full of untouched sand, soft under Roy’s feet when he gets out of the gondola. Gentle. Mantas are to the east, far away, moles to the north, preparing for a night hunt.

A mound smaller than their sandsail rises—a dune among other dunes. 

Sean takes his staff when he gets out.

Sand sings under Roy’s feet.

‘Why does it groan?’

‘It sings. It has something to do with the shape of the grain.’

‘A strange sound. I like it.’

Together, they walk to the mound.

‘Should I bring shovels?’

‘We might damage her.’

‘Right.’

They set to work, moving sand carefully with hands. It feels right.

The sky is blue like Sean’s eyes.

When stars start blinking, Sean sparks the vial on his shoulder to life—a tiny light down here, aching for its kindred above. It glints off the panels uncovered from the sand.

They look at each other.

‘You think it will work?’

‘Certain.’

‘Cells are ready, then.’

Sean holds the light as Roy sweeps more sand off. Then Roy puts his open, naked palms to the panels, closes his eyes.

Calls.

And smiles at the answer.

He feels Sean touching the panels, too; they join their Fluid, together coaxing long-slumbering systems into life.

‘Wake up, Queen of Mars,’ Roy calls. ‘Wake up, Opportunity. Wake up.’

She wakes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, Oppy! Hail to the Queen of Mars <3 Sleep for now.


End file.
